Blue Moon & Water Street

So there are few things in which I can honestly say this temperature challenged state of Michigan has that Florida can't "one up" them on, but here are two of them; Blue Moon Ice Cream and Water Street Coffee. These functional comforts have moved in and played the part of friend to my restlessness the past few days. I can only imagine that anyone that has to surrender to traumatic circumstances seeks the currency of comfort. Maybe we all do? Even those that fully consider today a "good day". Today is a good day. My brother is still laying in the same thin, plain bed with the same obnoxious tubing, but there are pictures on the wall. Pictures that announced his engagement to his fiancé, Jessica. Pictures of him laughing and smiling more brilliantly than the sun itself. Brad was planning on making April 2nd of 2011 a day that he would exchange his life for a life paired and married to her. Unfortunately our current situation has propelled us into making changes. Changes that most likely will result in that day taking place in a different season. Although this may seem sad or weight on one's joy, I sense something bigger being worked out. While Brad continues to battle the giants and patiently endure my poorly delivered jokes (he can't tell me to leave the room, he's sleeping), the room resonates a pure fragrance of a man dearly loved. Being someone that naturally views things from 30,000 feet, I see God playing caretaker in so many lives. Not only working on the physical healing of my brother, but the broken hearts that have gravitated to his side. I have had the privilege to see redemption, restoration, and reconciliation that only a deity larger than life itself could orchestrate! None of us would ever rationally write a story that embraces the notion of Brad potentially needing to sacrifice his life for old friends and family to resurface and find healing, but God has. Maybe you are reading hoping that at some point I will detail you on Brad's prognosis. Maybe fill you in on whether or not he is doing well or he has jumped over the mortality hurdle. The vivid truth is that none of us have those kind of answers. I find myself doing all I can to acquire knowledge on his condition and intellectually plan out his recovery. Probably because it is more comforting to do than submit to the mantra of "our days are numbered". Yet they are. I'm going to ask you for a favor. Take a moment today to pray for Brad. Take a moment today to pray for the families that are here in the waiting room with me that are at this very moment dealing with the agony of what intensive care delivers. Take a moment to pray for the other patients on this same floor that may be doing far worse than Brad and may not have anyone praying for them. But maybe even more vital, take a moment to simply look at your life and challenge your thoughts and actions. Each of us are moments away from change. Maybe the impetus for change in your life is chaos. Maybe it's a collision that you've been trying to avoid at all costs. But what if instead today the impetus was choice? What if before the collision you seek to change the course? What if you were to put that project on hold to spend a moment listening to your wife's dreams? What if you paid that bill a day late and used that moment to listen to your children laugh? What if you stopped holding on to what that person did to you years ago and meet with them to share a hug... maybe it can be over some Blue Moon Ice Cream or some Water Street Coffee? I wonder just what might happen!? You see, no matter where you find comfort or how far you run, our days are numbered. I beg you, use them well!